


The Service in the Shadows

by mitana



Series: Service in the Shadows [2]
Category: Bones (TV), Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitana/pseuds/mitana
Summary: Washington, DC 2010.  Can the Jeffersonian crew help out the Agency when it gets personal?
Relationships: Amanda King/Lee Stetson, Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan
Series: Service in the Shadows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137395
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the primary work in the "Service in the Shadows" series. Two others that I count as part of this timeline are not written by me, so I'm not including them here. They can be found on FFN written by turbomagnus and are called "Familiar Territory" and "Family Tradition," but it is not necessary to read those in order to understand what happens in this story.
> 
> I’m setting this in Bones Season 5, after “The Proof in the Pudding,” (episode 12) which makes it late January, 2010. I figure that “Familiar Territory” was set in the spring of 2009 when Parker was 6.
> 
> Finally, this prologue is mostly SMK, but I promise the rest of the story will have a more even distribution of Bones.

_Disclaimer: I don’t own Bones or Scarecrow and Mrs. King, I’m just borrowing them to keep them alive._

Doctor James King (Jim to his friends, and sometimes Jamie to his mom) glanced up at the platform as he finished documenting his data, saving the file and getting ready to leave for the day. _Looks like they have a long night ahead of them,_ he noted. The key members of the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab staff had a fresh case, so fresh that Special Agent Booth was still standing on the platform, listening to Doctor Brennan give him the little bit of information she was prepared to present in this preliminary stage of the investigation.

“Male, Caucasian, approximately 35-45 years of age. No obvious cause of death at this time.”

James heard the pronouncement with the stoicism that came with repetition, though when he started working at the Jeffersonian a year ago, it had been a shock to hear it. Not that he was unfamiliar with death, but given how soon after his abrupt career change it occurred, and the reasons for that change, it had unsettled him. It had felt personal at the time, and still felt that way to a certain extent. He had just learned to compartmentalize a little better now.

James continued to listen with half his attention as he put away his slides and covered the microscope at his station. “C’mon, Bones, can’t you give me anything more than that?”

He didn’t hear any more of the conversation as he headed to his locker to put away his lab coat and get his heavy winter coat. His decision to change careers had not necessarily been a difficult one, not when he took his family into account. They certainly appreciated the fact that working as an entomologist and forensic scientist at the Jeffersonian, he was less likely to be shot or injured (truth be told, that was a positive for him, too). There were other benefits, as well: regular hours and being able to come home every night after work, instead of the constant travel that his previous employment had required. 

The change came at a good time, because two months after he’d gotten the job at the Jeffersonian, Clara had told him she was pregnant. He couldn’t imagine being gone during her pregnancy or after Sofie was born.

He waved at Micah, who was just coming on shift as James was leaving. The security guard waved back and wished him a good evening, and James headed toward the parking structure.

As James climbed into the driver’s seat of his car and turned the heater on full blast, he thought about his wife and daughter. The image of how he had left them this morning, Sofie snuggled into Clara’s arms, made him smile. Taking out his cell phone, he sent off a quick text to Clara.

_Headed home now. Remember we’re having dinner at Mom and Lee’s house tonight._

He set the phone down and turned the key in the ignition. As he pulled his seatbelt across his chest, he heard the chirp of an incoming text message.

_Yep, I remember. I’ll take a quick shower once you get here, then we can go._

He grinned and backed out of the parking space, flipping on the radio as he drove toward home and his family.

* * *

He quietly opened the front door. Sofie was a pretty good sleeper, but he didn’t want to wake her if she was napping. He didn’t hear any noise as he stepped across the threshold, so he carefully closed the door behind him and locked it.

As he came around the corner and into the kitchen, Clara spotted him and stopped what she was doing to give him a kiss. Her short brown hair was messy and she looked a bit frazzled, but she was beautiful to him.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he softly greeted her.

Clara laughed tiredly. “Hello, handsome.” She glanced down at the counter and sighed. “Can you do me a favor and finish packing up these cookies to bring to your parents’ house? I still need to take my shower and I only got Sofie down for a quick nap about 15 minutes ago. I’ve been trying to clean up in here a little bit before we leave.”

“Sure,” James agreed. Clara gave him a peck on his cheek and rushed upstairs to get ready to go to her in-laws’ house.

After packing the rest of the chocolate chip cookies into the container, he closed it up and glanced around at the kitchen. He could see that Clara had made a dent in the mess she had made making the cookies, but hadn’t quite finished. He opened the dishwasher and started filling it.

* * *

The house was not the one he had grown up in. Or rather, not the one he had been a small child in. A few months after his mom had married Lee, they had moved to this one, not too far from where they had lived before. He and Philip had even been able to stay at the same schools.

The thought made him pause in the process of extracting Sofie’s infant carrier from the car. It had been two years, and he still had a hard time thinking about Philip.

“Everything okay?” Clara asked, realizing James had stopped moving.

“Oh,” he replied, “yeah, everything is fine. I was just thinking…” He swallowed heavily before saying the rest, “About Philip.”

Clara’s expression softened as she looked at her husband. She slung the diaper bag over her left shoulder, then placed her right hand on his shoulder. “I know you miss him. I do, too, and I only knew him for two years…”

A gurgle came from the back seat of the car, and they both peered in to look at their daughter. James chuckled and finished unhooking the carrier from the base, pulling it out of the vehicle. He tucked Sofie’s blankets more snugly around her while Clara closed the car door, and the two adults walked quickly up the pathway to the front of the house.

His mom was waiting for them and swung the door open. “Hello, sweetheart. Hi, Clara.” She closed the door and gave each of them a hug, then bent over the carrier. Seeing that Sofie was awake, her voice changed as she spoke to the five-week-old, “Hello, my sweet Sofie!”

Amanda Stetson ushered her son and his family further into the house. Once they had moved into the living room, James put down the carrier and started to unbuckle Sofie. Pulling her out of the seat, he carefully lifted her up and placed her against his shoulder. He nuzzled into her hair, kissing her forehead, then glanced up at his mom. 

He laughed softly. “Yes, you can have her, Mom. Just give me a minute. She was asleep when I got home.” He murmured loving words into Sofie’s hair, shifting her so he could see her face. “Hello, little angel. Daddy missed you.” He gently kissed her cheek, then handed her to Amanda.

“Lee should be home any minute,” Amanda informed them without taking her eyes off the face of the infant she was cradling in her arms. She followed up the statement with a crooned “And your grandpa is going to be so happy to see you!”

Amanda had only been holding her granddaughter for a few minutes when they heard the sound of the door opening again.

“Where’s my Sofia Amanda?”

* * *

They had finished dinner and broken open the cookie container when James saw Lee give Amanda a significant look. Her expression became more serious, and she nodded.

“Jim, let’s go outside for a bit,” suggested Lee.

Amanda got Clara’s attention and asked her when her maternity leave was ending. James leaned down to kiss Clara, then dropped a soft kiss onto Sofie’s cheek and grabbed his coat. He then followed Lee into the back yard, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

James and Lee stood staring out into the darkness, silently listening to the sounds of all the nighttime creatures for several minutes. Then with a heavy sigh, Lee turned to James and said, “Jim…”

Concerned at the tone of his stepfather’s voice, James took the time to really look at Lee. He noticed the slump of the older man’s shoulders and the tightness of his lips. The laugh lines around his eyes that were usually mobile looked engraved into the skin of his face. He was starting to show his age. His hair had started to silver years ago, but James thought that it was looking even lighter now. 

Lee took a deep breath, then let it out in an uncontrolled gust. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and ran his fingers through it, uncaring of the disorder he left it in. “I’m going to be speaking to FBI Deputy Director Cullen tomorrow to request the use of the Medico-Legal team. I wanted to give you a head’s up.” He reached across the short distance and placed his hands on both of James’ shoulders. “Jim—” the break in Lee’s voice alarmed James as nothing else had that evening. “We’ve had word that Philip’s body has been found.”


	2. Too Close to Home

Special Agent Seeley Booth read the email about meeting in Cullen's office with ill humor. He and Bones had been working on their new case until after eight o'clock last night, so dinner had been late. And then when he got home, he'd been unable to sleep and had tossed and turned for half the night. Tiredly rubbing at his neck, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Bones' number.

"Bones—" he got out before Brennan overrode him.

"Angela was able to identify the remains from last night, Booth."

"Oh, well, that's good, Bones, but that isn't why I called you." He sighed. At least she had some good news to tell him. "What's his name?" He took out his index cards and prepared to write it down.

"Hayden Updyke. Thirty-nine years of age, from Alexandria." She gave out the information and then added something he wasn't expecting. "We also found cause of death. From Hodgins' data, there's a 98 percent probability it was accidental. "

Some of the tension in his shoulders released at this piece of news. "That's great, Bones."

She started explaining and he glanced at the clock. "Wait, wait, Bones," he interrupted. She stopped and he jumped into the silence. "I'm glad you found it out. Can you just send me an email with the details? I have something I need to ask you."

"Of course, Booth."

"I received an email from Cullen this morning asking the two of us to meet in his office at ten o'clock. I don't know what it's about, but he said it was important." Booth grabbed his lighter from where it was sitting in front of him on the desk and flipped it open. Watching the flame, he almost missed the fact that Brennan had started speaking.

"Booth? What's the question?"

He snapped out of his trance and shut the lighter. "Huh? Oh, can you meet me here at my office at 9:45? Then we can walk up to his office together."

"Of course, Booth. I'm surprised you felt the need to ask. The Deputy Director of the FBI is not a person it would be wise to ignore."

He grinned. "I wasn't suggesting we should, Bones. But it's only polite to ask for your presence instead of demanding it."

He could almost picture her head tilting silently to consider his words. "Thank you," she replied. "I'll send you the details on our case from last night and then I will leave to go to the Hoover."

With another glance at his clock, Booth nodded his head, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "Then I'll see you in half an hour."

Right on time, Dr. Temperance Brennan appeared in his doorway. He had just finished reading her email about the Hayden Updyke case and was relieved that it had been found to be accidental. Much less paperwork for him to complete.

He gave her a small grin. "I'm still not sure what this is all about, but I guess we'll know in a few minutes, huh?"

She nodded as he got up from his chair. "That is true."

Booth placed his hand in his spot on her lower back and guided her to the elevators.

His hand was still in the same place when they walked into the reception area outside Cullen's office.

"Agent Booth, he said you could go right in when you arrived," his secretary announced.

He smiled at the petite middle-aged brunette. "Thanks, Erin."

He opened the door with his left hand, keeping his right hand on Brennan's back as he ushered her into the room. Erin eyed the hand's placement and shook her head. "One of these days they'll figure it out," she sighed to herself.

Booth observed that there was a man sitting in one of the chairs across from Deputy Director Cullen, but could at first only see the back of his head.

Cullen and the other man stood. "Special Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, I'd like to introduce you to Director Lee Stetson of the Agency."

Booth turned toward the unknown man to his left, removing his right hand from Brennan's back to offer it to the other man. "Nice to meet—" he got a good look at the man and slowly finished his statement, "you. Sir." He continued to offer his hand and the older man shook it.

Director Stetson gave Booth a wry smile, then flicked his eyes to Cullen. "We've already met." He huffed out a little laugh. "In a fashion."

Cullen's puzzled expression cleared and he nodded slowly, folding his arms across his chest as something was suddenly made clear to him. He glanced over at Dr. Brennan and raised one eyebrow.

Stetson's lip curled up in a half smile and his head nodded fractionally. His smile grew as he turned toward Brennan, and Booth backed up a half-step so Stetson could shake her hand. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Dr. Brennan."

She shook Stetson's hand, then looked between him and Cullen. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well." She glanced at Booth and her eyebrows were drawn together. "What is the Agency?"

Stetson cleared his throat and Cullen gestured to the two unoccupied chairs. One of them had obviously been dragged over from the seating arrangement across the room. "Let's have a seat, shall we?"

Booth placed his hand on Brennan's lower back to guide her to the extra chair. Cullen and Stetson shared a speaking glance. Everyone sat.

"The Agency," began Lee Stetson, "Is a covert operations agency that doesn't…" he cleared his throat again, " _officially_ exist."

He took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "Under normal conditions, I would not be here speaking to you, and I certainly wouldn't have been introduced in my capacity as director of the Agency. That information is classified and is generally only exposed on a need-to-know basis."

Booth pressed his lips together. "So, what you're saying is that something out-of-the-ordinary has happened and you need our help."

Cullen interrupted to give a few more details. "You two have been approved to take this case, but the presumed identity of the victim is to remain top secret until and unless you can prove it one way or the other."

"And the other squints?" Booth asked, eyeing Brennan to see if she had any questions.

"Are not to be given any information on the presumed identity." Stetson leaned forward and rubbed his forehead wearily. "With one exception, and only if he agrees."

Booth's head snapped toward Stetson. Brennan's eyebrows crept together, the skin creasing in puzzlement. "Who?"

Stetson smiled faintly. "Dr. James King. My stepson."

Brennan wasn't the best with names, but she nodded, indicating she knew who he was. "He's working with the Global Genome Initiative and his skill in collecting genetic samples would be of immense value in identifying the victim."

"Yes, it would," Stetson confirmed.

"Why would he not wish to help? A position on my team at the Medico-Legal Lab is highly sought after by scientists around the world."

Stetson's smile turned bittersweet. "Because the presumed identity of the victim is his brother, my stepson Philip King."

Booth suddenly sat up straight and stared accusingly at Stetson. He had just put some information together that he remembered from his previous introduction to Stetson and wasn't happy about it. "Wait a minute. You told me your stepson Jim was a federal agent." His voice hardened. "Have you had him working undercover at the Jeffersonian all this time?" He glanced at Brennan to see if she could give him information about how long Dr. James King had been working there.

She searched her memory. Dr. Saroyan would have been the one to hire him, not her. "I believe he's been there about a year."

Stetson nodded at Dr. Brennan, confirming her memory's accuracy. Then he turned to Booth after a glance at Cullen, who also had an unhappy expression on his face. "No, he resigned from the Agency about six months after Philip's death." He sighed. "His mother—my wife Amanda- was devastated by Philip's death, and Jim was not willing to cause her any more pain if anything happened to him." He realized that he should explain a bit further. "She was his section leader, and was responsible for making the assignments. She's a very sensitive person and takes any agent's death personally. If she had sent him out and something had happened to him…after what happened to Philip, I don't think she would have been able to continue on."

He sighed again. The whole situation was obviously difficult for him. He straightened in his seat. "Jim was engaged when Philip was killed. We managed to convince him to continue with the wedding plans anyway. We all needed something happy to focus on to help us cope, and Philip wouldn't have wanted Jim to put it off. After the wedding, Jim decided he needed to resign so he could focus on his new wife and give Amanda some peace of mind."

Booth could see that all this talk about losing a child was getting to Cullen. He had never quite been the same after the death of his daughter. Heck, it was bothering him, too. He couldn't imagine the pain he would face if he lost Parker.

Dr. Brennan had been listening and thinking. "Was Philip a federal agent, too? What happened to him?" The thought of an agent dying made her extremely uncomfortable. She couldn't help remembering how she had felt when she thought Booth had died.

Stetson sat back in his chair and let out a short breath. "No. He was a reporter, working in the Middle East and Asia. He was beheaded by terrorists making a political statement." He looked Brennan in the eye. "We never recovered his body. But two days ago, a package was delivered to one of our offices. In it was a partial skeleton, severely damaged. Preliminary investigation of the remains determined it to be male, Caucasian; age range and height are consistent with Philip's."

"And it's missing the skull?" Brennan inferred.

Stetson nodded. "Our forensic guys are good, but the skeleton has been treated in some way that has damaged the DNA they found."

Cullen shifted in his chair and gestured at Booth and Brennan. "Because the Agency doesn't officially exist, they can't contract the services of the Jeffersonian. So we're going to treat this like it's one of our domestic crimes. I'll handle the jurisdiction paperwork. Booth, you're going to investigate where the package came from and follow up on anything Dr. Brennan's team finds. Dr. Brennan, you and your team have the expertise to investigate any evidence left on the remains."

Booth looked at Brennan. "You up for this, Bones?"

She looked into Booth's eyes, then glanced over and met the gaze of Lee Stetson. She nodded. "Yes."

Cullen stood up, followed quickly by the rest of them.

Stetson took a deep breath, looking like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I'll send you everything we have on this so far, and we'll continue doing our own digging. But you can be more straightforward in your investigation than we can, so you'll have the chance to find out information that we don't have access to."

Booth turned toward the door, stopping to shake Stetson's hand once more on the way out. He held out his arm in a "let's go" gesture to Brennan. She moved around the chair to her left and took a step toward Booth, then seemed to change her mind and moved toward Stetson instead.

She placed a hand on the Agency Director's arm and met his eyes with a resolute expression. "We will ascertain the information you need to determine if this is your son."

Lee Stetson smiled at her. "Thank you."

She removed her hand from his arm and moved next to Booth, who placed his right hand in the small of her back and ushered her out of the office.

Stetson briefly closed his eyes and shook his head, remembering doing the same thing with Amanda while vehemently denying that he had any feelings for her other than friendship. He gave a low chuckle when he opened his eyes again and looked at Cullen.

"You have that issue settled I asked you about last year?"

Cullen knew exactly to what Stetson referred. "Oh, yeah. Everything is taken care of." He rubbed his chin consideringly, staring in the direction Booth and Brennan had gone. "If they ever decide to cross that line."

Stetson's chuckle this time was amused and knowing. "Oh, they will…They will."


	3. Crossing Paths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try to insert some “case” in this case-fic, but since I’m not a federal agent or a forensic anthropologist, I’m going to be glossing over a few things and focusing on the relationship angle. The Global Genome Initiative is a real program that is run at the Smithsonian, but in reality, it didn’t get started until after 2015; I’m using artistic license to move it up 5-6 years.

_To: James King (JKing75@gomail.com)  
From: Philip King (PhilKing@news24.com)  
Subject: Happy Easter!  
Date: Sunday, March 23, 2008 18:05:32 (AFT)_

_Hey, little Bro! Happy Easter! If you’re able to be home today eating Mom’s glazed ham, I don’t want to hear about it. If you’re not, I hope you are safe and able to celebrate in an appropriate manner. I’m not one to brag, but I scored a delicious meal of pork ribs, clam chowder, and raisin nut mix with chocolate candies. Ooh, and a side of a tortilla with cheese spread. Don’t be jealous. I’m sure your meal was/will be just as good._

_I can’t tell you exactly where we are, but we’ve been lucky; things have been pretty quiet here the last few days._

_Of course, Drew can’t let us live too peacefully. He’s always playing practical jokes. One of these days one of the soldiers is going to F him up. Or maybe I will. Nah, j/k. He’s too much fun to be around. The last stunt he pulled, he got me involved, too. He’s going to get us fired if we don’t get beat up first. Or maybe both._

_Last week I met another correspondent. You may have seen her reporting on TV if you can ever tear yourself away from watching me. Her name is Hannah Burley. Totally hot, huh? I’m too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell, but YOWZA!_

_Speaking of women, how’s Clara? Has she broken up with your ass yet? ;) Tell her she still owes me twenty bucks. And that it’s her turn to write me._

_Seriously, how are the wedding plans coming? I’ve got my vacation days set up and my flight booked for the week before. Gotta have time to set up your bachelor party._

_Anyway, I’ve got to go pack up. The PTB are pulling Drew and I out tomorrow and sending us to Bangladesh for a follow-up to last year’s story. I’m looking forward to eating real food again._

_Keep safe, little brother._

_Phil_

_To: Philip King (PhilKing@news24.com)  
From: James King (JKing75@gomail.com)  
Subject: Re: Happy Easter!  
Date: Sunday, March 23, 2008 17:25:56 (EDT)_

_Lucky me, I did get to be home for Easter this year. Mom’s glazed ham was just as delicious as usual, and so were her scalloped potatoes. Sounds like you’re enjoying those MREs a little too much, Bro._

_I’m glad that it’s been calm for you. I guess that means less to report, but I’ve got a fairly good idea of where you are, so I’d rather miss seeing your face on TV if that means you’re (relatively) safe._

_Sounds like you and your twin are getting into just as much trouble together as ever. I love how you try to make it sound like it’s always Drew’s fault. It’s truly a bromance for the ages. Try not to get yourself killed by our own guys, ok? There are enough on the other side trying to do it._

_Yeah, I’ve seen Hannah Burley on that ‘other’ station. You’re right. She is hot. But totally not my type, even if I was single. Seems perfect for you, though._

_Clara says Hi. She’s been busy with wedding plans. She ordered your tux for the wedding, but she says you need to go in for a fitting if you manage to make it back to the states before that week. (She says they can do a last-minute rush job of it if you don’t come back before that, but it’ll be easier if it can be done earlier.) BTW, Clara says you’re delusional if you think you’re getting that 20 bucks from her. She says she won it fair and square._

_Be careful in Bangladesh. You won’t have a whole Army unit watching your back._

_Love ya, big brother._

_Jim_

* * *

Dr. James King closed his email program. He must have read Philip’s last email twenty or thirty times in the almost two years since it had been written. He had been unable to concentrate on his work this morning as he anxiously awaited what he knew was coming, so he had opened it up again. It was his last link with Philip, until today.

His mother had informed him that yesterday’s meeting between Deputy Director Cullen and Lee had occurred as planned. The remains were expected to arrive at the Jeffersonian this morning. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Did he want the remains to be identified as Philip’s? _I suppose I do._ That would give their family some closure.

He sighed. Growing up with an older brother had presented some challenges. They didn’t always get along. Philip had teased him and annoyed him, as siblings often do. But as they grew older and the two-year difference in their ages became less and less important, they had become more like friends. They hadn’t seen each other very often in the last few years before Philip’s death; Philip was often out of the country on assignment for his news organization, and James had frequent covert assignments which kept him busy. Their paths had rarely crossed in person, but they had kept in touch through email and phone calls. The last time they had seen each other had been when Philip had come to town for Christmas 2007. Philip and Clara had hit it off when they had first met the year before, and Clara had been known to send him an email now and then in the intervening time, so Christmas had been a wonderful reunion for them all. 

The news of Philip’s death, and how he died, had been a complete shock. Philip should have had the safer of their two jobs. James knew that Philip’s overseas correspondent position had had its share of danger; he wasn’t sitting behind a desk in a studio somewhere in New York or LA, but out there on the front lines. When Philip had sent that last email, he had been embedded with an army unit in Afghanistan. He had been in good spirits, telling about the hijinks his cameraman Drew had been up to and bragging about his liaison with another journalist, and James had replied in like manner. They had always given each other a hard time, as brothers were expected to do. He never received a response to his email. 

The report of Philip’s execution had torn through James as if he were the one who had been beheaded. His entire identity was framed around being a brother. He had never existed in a world without Philip; it had always been the two of them, doing everything together while growing up. The four of them, his mother, grandmother, Philip, and James had been a little entity all their own. Two women, two small boys. Scouts, Little League, neighborhood plays, birthday parties, campouts, science projects, sleepovers… They had faced the world together, a unified front. When his grandmother had died, he had been sad. But the abrupt deletion of Philip, his partner in that little quartet, had created a gaping hole in his existence that had yet to close or be filled. He didn’t know if it ever would be.

“Dr. King, please come to my office.” Dr. Brennan walked past him on the way to her office, and he closed the program on his computer and followed her.

Expecting her to sit behind her desk, James was surprised when she ignored it and sat on the small couch instead, indicating that he should sit beside her.

“Dr. Saroyan has been very pleased with your forensic work here at the Medico-Legal Lab, and Dr. Marsh reports that your work for the Global Genome Initiative has been exemplary. Dr. Hodgins has also reported that he has been quite satisfied with your entomological research and assistance.”

James nodded, smiling faintly. “I’m glad my work has been acceptable.”

Brennan nodded once at his acceptance of what, for her, was high praise. “I have been informed that the remains of what may be your brother will be arriving today from the Agency.”

James swallowed. “Yes, Dr. Brennan. I was told they should be here no later than 10 AM.”

“Director Stetson has told me a small bit of information about your history and that of your brother. However, due to the covert nature of this case, the rest of the Jeffersonian team will not be told, and the possible identity of the remains will also not be revealed. Dr. Saroyan may eventually need to be told, however, as she oversees the lab and will be involved in processing any DNA evidence we find.”

He nodded. Lee had told him all of this over the phone. “I understand the need for secrecy. You can count on me for any assistance I may be able to provide.”

“I would welcome your assistance, but you don’t need to participate in this investigation if you are uncomfortable with it. I would understand if you feel you are too emotionally involved.” If anyone in the Jeffersonian could understand how he felt, it would be her. Her own mother’s remains had been stored in bone storage and been examined right there on the platform.

James’ shoulders dropped a centimeter or two, but then he brought them up again as he straightened his spine. “Believe me, Dr. Brennan, I’ve thought about taking the next week off just to avoid being in the same room with those remains. But I…I can’t. I have to _know._ ”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “We couldn’t have a proper funeral because we didn’t have a body to bury. We had a memorial service, but because of _our_ jobs, it was small and private, even though Philip was such a public person.” He took off his glasses, holding them in one hand as he rubbed at his temples with the other. “My mother, despite her position--” he looked questioningly at Brennan to make sure she was aware of Amanda Stetson’s job. 

Brennan nodded, and he turned his head so he wasn’t looking directly at her. Staring blindly across the office, he continued. “My mother is a very caring, empathetic person. She’s never been good at accepting the death of anyone, whether it’s one of the agents in her section, or someone in our family. She was devastated by Philip’s death, but she’s been so strong this whole time. She needs closure; we _all_ need closure.”

Temperance Brennan, not known for being able to read social or emotional cues, nonetheless could hear the strain in the other scientist’s voice. Not knowing what she could say to the man without revealing too much of her own history, she instead chose to respond by placing her hand on his arm where it rested in his lap.

James knew enough about Dr. Brennan to understand that the uncharacteristic gesture was an indication of strong feelings. He was touched that she had opened up enough to try to comfort him.

With a sad smile, James finished his plea. “I _want_ to help with the investigation. I _need_ to help, if there is anything I can do.”

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat came from the direction of the door. Both scientists looked up, Brennan quickly removing her hand from James’ arm. James put his glasses back on.

Special Agent Booth stood in the doorway, looking across the office with a scowl on his face. “Bones, the remains have been delivered.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Booth.” Brennan stood up, followed by James.

She turned back to James. “Until we know the condition of the remains, just continue performing your regular GGI assignment. I will request your assistance when it is needed.”

James nodded. “Thank you for speaking with me, Dr. Brennan. I appreciate it.”

He walked toward the door of the office, stopping next to Booth. “Agent Booth, we haven’t been officially introduced. I’m Dr. James King.” He held out his hand.

Booth’s face cleared of the scowl as he realized who James was. He shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you. I hope that we can help you finally figure out what happened to your brother.”

“Thank you.” James made his way out to his station, hoping that he would be able to concentrate on what he was doing. As he passed the platform, he let his eyes linger on the box that was resting on one of the autopsy tables. Perhaps the closure that his family needed was sitting right there.

* * *

Booth watched Dr. King walk out into the lab. Brennan crossed the office and came up beside the agent. 

Noticing that his eyes were still on Dr. King, she regarded Booth with concern. “Is there something wrong, Booth? Why are you still watching Dr. King?”

He glanced at her, then returned his eyes to the lab. “Just curious about him. I’ve never met anyone before who’s both a federal agent _and_ a squint.”

“Technically, he is not a federal agent anymore, so you still have not.” She strode purposefully toward the platform entrance and was about to scan her security card when she heard Booth call to her.

“Bones, wait up!”

She paused and turned, facing him as he jogged up to her. He lowered his voice as he reached her. ”The Agency squints have already done their best to collect any trace evidence from both the remains and the box he was delivered in, but they probably aren’t any better than the FBI squints. Maybe our team can find something they missed.”

Dr. Brennan leaned in and whispered, “Booth, why are you stating the obvious? That is the reason we have been brought into this case.”

Booth shook his head. “I just meant that I know you’re going to be examining the bones and trying to find DNA evidence. But any trace on the _box_ could give _me_ a lead that _I_ can follow.”

“I will ensure that Dr. Hodgins knows that examining the box is his first priority.”

“Thank you. I’ll be following up a lead that the Agency turned over. I have an informant who may be able to help, but more solid evidence would be good.” Booth glanced over to where Dr. King was working. “Do you think he’s going to—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Brennan looked up at Booth, raising one eyebrow. “Do I think he’s going to what?”

Booth remembered Brennan’s hand on Dr. King’s arm and realized that she might have more emotional insight than usual. “Will he be able to handle the investigation?”

Brennan considered Booth’s question, collating all she knew about the other scientist, including what he had been talking about a few minutes ago. “I believe so.”

“Good.” Booth squeezed Brennan’s forearm as a goodbye, and left to go follow up with his informant.

Brennan scanned her card and walked up the stairs to the platform. Donning her gloves, she summoned Wendell to aid her. The two of them removed the partial skeleton from the evidence container and began their examination.

“Male, 35-45 years old.” Measuring the length of his femur, she added, “Approximate height, 188 centimeters.” Glancing up from her scrutiny of the bones, she noted the wooden crate and remembered that she had promised Booth that Hodgins would examine the box. She glanced around at the busy scientists and interns on the floor level of the lab and caught the eye of Dr. King, who had been paying closer attention to the goings-on of the platform than was his wont.

She raised her voice. “Dr. King. Please ask Dr. Hodgins to come to the platform.”

“Yes, Dr. Brennan.”


	4. Interagency Cooperation

In another time and place, James may have felt annoyed or insulted that he had been sent to fetch Dr. Hodgins, but he was willing to do anything to advance this case. Nothing was too trivial. He would willingly be Dr. Brennan’s gofer if it meant closure for his family.

As he reached Dr. Hodgins’s lab, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He may be willing to be a gofer, but no one was supposed to know that he had any connection to this case, so he had to act natural.

“Dr. Hodgins?”

“Yeah?” Hodgins looked up from his current undertaking and smiled at James. “Oh, hey, Jim.”

James gave him a wry smile. “Dr. Brennan would like to see you on the platform.”

“She’s turned you into her messenger-boy?” Jack laughed. “Dude, you’ve got two doctorates. Why didn’t she send one of the techs?”

James shrugged. “I happened to meet her eyes when she was searching for someone to send.”

Hodgins shook his head with a smile, then sighed. “Do we have a new case?”

“Yeah. I think she wants you to examine the box that the, ah, remains were delivered in.”

Hodgins nodded, then looked down at his hands. “I’ll be done here in just a moment.”

James smiled. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there soon.”

As James turned to head back to his station, he heard Hodgins call him back. “Jim!”

He turned back and stuck his head through the door of the lab. “Yeah?”

“You got anything else you’re working on right now?”

James shrugged. “Not anything that can’t wait.”

Hodgins finished making his last adjustment to the item in his hands, then placed it on a shelf behind him. “Why don’t you give me a hand with this box?”

His heart rate sped up. Nodding his head, he smiled at Hodgins. “I’d be glad to help.”

* * *

Special Agent Booth looked at his phone and double-checked the address that had been texted to him just as he was finishing up with his CI. Yep. He was in the right place.

He walked up to the door and opened it. He found himself in a small foyer. A desk sat to his right, a woman who looked like she was in her late 50s sitting behind it. 

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Special Agent Seeley Booth. I’m here to see Amanda Stetson.” He held out his badge and ID to her, which she looked at with knowledgeable eyes. This was no quick glance.

“Oh, yes.” The woman nodded and turned to her computer. “Just let me check you in and get your ID printed, and someone will be here to escort you in a moment.” She clicked a screen, typed something rapidly, clicked again, and the printer beside her started making noise.

She turned to the printer, pulled the item off the tray, and tore a piece off along a perforated edge. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out a plastic ID sleeve with a metal clip and slid the printed piece of paper into the sleeve. She handed it to him.

He clipped it to the lapel of his suit jacket and turned to look around at the room he was in. He noticed several security cameras around the room, one directly behind the woman’s desk so that anyone facing her would have a clear full-face shot taken of them. There was also a flight of stairs and a set of double doors behind the desk. Other than those items, a door that looked like a coat closet, and a few paintings on the walls, the foyer was empty. 

He had been surprised at arriving at the address to find that it was a relatively small brick building that looked just like all the other offices on the street. The sign out front read “International Federal Film.” Not very imposing, but since the Agency was somewhat of a government secret, he supposed it was better that they not draw attention to themselves.

The door to his left, which he had thought was a closet, opened, and a man about his own age with wavy strawberry-blond hair stepped out.

“Special Agent Booth?”

At Booth’s nod, the man held out his hand.

Booth took it in a firm handshake just as the man introduced himself. “I’m Agent Evan Conley. Mrs. Stetson is waiting to meet you. Please follow me.”

Conley opened the closet door, pushing a few coats out of the way. He stepped in and waited for Booth to follow, then closed the door. Sliding doors closed until he could no longer see the closet door, and he felt the room start to move. 

Conley chuckled, gesturing at the coats beside him. “Kinda cheesy, I know. But it gives it a little personality while maintaining the cover.”

Booth looked around again, amused at the subterfuge. The slight movement of the elevator stopped, and doors on the opposite side slid open.

Agent Conley stepped out, followed by Booth. “This way.”

He followed the redhead down a corridor which looked just like any other government building corridor. They stopped before a set of glass doors guarded by two armed, uniformed men. One of them glanced at Conley and at Booth’s ID tag, then opened the door for them.

The room was full of desks, peopled by workers wearing professional attire. There was an air of quiet efficiency and goodwill that permeated the room, contrary to his expectations. Conley was met with smiles and Booth was given a few curious but friendly glances as they walked through the busy bullpen. After crossing the room, they ended up standing before an open door with a name plate on it bearing the name ‘Amanda Stetson.’

“Come on in, Evan,” he heard a light, somewhat husky voice call out.

He didn’t really know what to expect of this woman. He had to admit to some curiosity, having now met both her husband and son. Many women in positions of authority in this business were efficient and very businesslike. They had to be strong, hard, and no-nonsense to excel in a business that was still mostly populated by men. 

His first impression of Amanda Stetson was the exact opposite. She stood and stepped around the edge of her desk to welcome him with a smile, holding out her hand for him to shake. “Special Agent Booth, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

As he shook her hand, he regarded her thoughtfully. She had warm, brown eyes set in a delicate face. Her hair was a wavy medium brown with a generous amount of silver sprinkled through it, cut in a soft style that framed her face. She seemed to be about the same height as Bones, but even thinner than her, if that was possible. She wore gray slacks and a pale turquoise blouse, tasteful and understated jewelry, and sensible flats. Her makeup was minimal, mostly limited to some dusky eyeshadow that enhanced her eyes and a bit of lipstick in a neutral shade.

He realized after a moment that she was smiling in gentle amusement at his perusal of her, and he let go of her hand. 

“I suppose I have the advantage of you. My son has mentioned you several times over the past year, so I knew what to expect.” She paused. “I also have the clearance to look up your records. You and Dr. Brennan have an impressive case-closure rate.”

Booth nodded. “I have the benefit of Dr. Brennan’s expertise, and the entire Medico-Legal Lab team to back me up.”

Amanda leaned against the front of her desk, gesturing toward the chair in front of her. “Please, have a seat.” He sat. She crossed her arms, looking at him consideringly, then glanced up to catch Evan Conley’s eye. “Evan will be your liaison with the Agency during this investigation,” she said abruptly. She looked back at Booth. “He knows the situation, and he can be available at all hours.” She sighed. “I, unfortunately, cannot.” She gave a wry smile, her eyes twinkling as she laughed at herself. “Too many meetings.”

She uncrossed her arms and rested her hands on the edge of the desk beside her hips. “You can get his contact information before you leave.” She looked at Conley for a moment and gave him a sad smile. “Evan, please give me a moment to speak with Agent Booth privately.”

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“And close the door on your way out, please.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A tinkling laugh accompanied the shaking of her head. “I thought we were past the ‘Ma’aming’ stage, Evan.”

“Oh, we are, M—Mrs. Stetson.”

She gazed piercingly at him, raising one eyebrow.

Conley gulped soundlessly. “Amanda.”

“That’s better.” She smiled at him and nodded, then waited for him to walk out of the office and close the door behind him.

Amanda sat down in the chair beside Booth. “I’ve been trying to get him to call me Amanda for years. It’s only since last month when he officially became my assistant that I’ve been able to get past all the ‘Ma’ams.’” She smiled at Booth, looking him in the eye. “And he sometimes forgets.”

Booth was a little unnerved at this confident but friendly approach from the Agency Field Section Leader. He wondered if she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security before doing something…well, _something_. He wasn’t even sure why he had been called in here to meet her. But it didn’t seem like an act; from the behavior of the personnel in the bullpen and the way Agent Conley had interacted with her, it seemed like it was just her personality to be open and amiable. Odd characteristics for someone in a position of authority in the Intelligence business.

He nodded. 

Amanda’s soft smile deepened into a grin. “You’re wondering why I asked you to come in.”

Booth nodded again. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, Agent Booth, it was mostly curiosity.” She chuckled. “I’ve been hearing about you and Dr. Brennan from my son for the last year, and then my husband suggested asking for your help with this…situation.”

Booth saw her eyes darken momentarily in sorrow, but then saw her bring herself back to the conversation with an abrupt straightening of her shoulders.

“He’s not overly fond of getting assistance from other law enforcement agencies.” An affectionate smile appeared on her lips. “So I knew you two were something special.”

Not sure how to respond to that statement, he remained silent.

“You’ve been partners for a little over four years now, right?”

Finally, a question he could answer. “Yes, that’s right.”

She nodded, a shrewd look in her eyes as she offered him some personal information. “My husband and I were partners before we got married.” She grinned again, that same affectionate look appearing in her eyes as before. “Afterward, too.”

“He mentioned that you had been partners before getting married when I first met him, about a year ago.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Did he, now?” She smiled in satisfaction.

Booth nodded. “He didn’t say that you remained partners afterward, though.”

She sighed. “It took some fast talking and a very understanding boss, but we were able to remain partners until a promotion was offered that was too good to pass up.” She smiled at him, looking him in the eye. “But that’s a story for another time.”

Booth cleared his throat. “I’m glad that it worked out for you.” 

“Oh, yes. It has.” She tilted her head, the smile fading from her face. She sighed again. “Agent Booth, I told you I had invited you here mostly out of curiosity, and that’s the truth. But there’s more to it than that.”

He nodded. So here it was, the thing she had been buttering him up about. He was disappointed. He had been beginning to hope that she was actually as open as she appeared to be. But he should have known that she had an ulterior motive. She was Agency, after all. They dealt in deception.

“You have a son.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “I do.” Now he was puzzled. Where was she going with this?

“According to your file, you don’t have custody of him.” Her voice was even, no inflection giving him a clue as to her frame of mind. She was merely stating a fact.

He answered in the same vein. “No, I do not.”

“Why is that?” Her eyes met his, and though he still believed she had an ulterior motive for bringing him there, he could no longer believe that she had negative intent. She needed something from him, but the sorrow glimmering in her eyes was not a deception. Given what he knew about her son’s death, he had a sudden insight into what she needed. 

And Seeley Booth, known for keeping his private life scrupulously private, told this strong, forthright woman what she needed to hear even though it meant opening up about his own life.

His eyes softened as he relaxed back into the chair. “His mother and I were never married. I asked her to marry me when I found out she was pregnant, but she turned me down.” He shifted in his seat. “I know now that she was right to do it, because we didn’t really love each other enough to make it work. But I loved Parker from the moment I found out Rebecca was carrying him. I was in the Army at the time, and when she was in labor, I couldn’t get a pass to be there, so I went AWOL. The MPs came and arrested me as I was holding him for the first time.” He snorted in remembered anger, then looked up at Amanda Stetson, and sighed. “She let me name him. I named him after a soldier I knew, who died practically in my arms…”

He paused, then finally answered her question. “When I was in the Army, I was gone all the time, and I wasn’t…in a good place, mentally.” He stared blankly at the wall past her for a moment, thinking about all the people he had killed. He focused on her again. “When I got out and joined the FBI, I was in the country, but I still had an irregular schedule. And I still wasn’t in the best state of mind to really take care of a child.” He saw her nodding understandingly. “I don’t have custody, Mrs. Stetson, because I want what’s best for my son. I don’t have custody because I love him more than anyone else in the world.”

“Good parents always want what’s best for their children,” she confirmed, placing her hand on his knee. “We always think of them first, even when they’re not with us anymore.” The last few words came out scratchy, as if they could barely leave her throat.

He placed his hand on top of hers and spoke softly. “We’ll take care of him, Mrs. Stetson. We’ll find out what happened.” 

“Amanda,” she inserted.

“Wha--?”

“Call me Amanda,” she interrupted. She met his eyes, and he could see the liquid gleam from unshed tears. 

He nodded, answering in a soft voice. “You can call me Seeley.”

A quick knock on the door was followed immediately by the door opening. They both looked up to find Lee Stetson striding toward them, squatting down next to Amanda. “Amanda? What’s wrong?”

She gave Booth’s knee a squeeze, then pulled her hand out from under his and grabbed Lee’s. “Nothing’s wrong, Sweetheart. I’m okay.”

He stared into her eyes for a moment, then nodded once and stood up. 

Amanda stood up, too, still holding on to Lee’s hand.

Booth followed suit, coming face to face with the Director of the Agency.

“Agent Booth.” Lee acknowledged his presence with a nod and a questioning look in his eye.

“Director Stetson.” Booth nodded as well, glancing back at Amanda. “Mrs. Stetson—”

“Amanda,” she reminded him.

Booth’s lips twitched, almost smiling. “ _Amanda_ asked me to come in and see her this morning, but I think we’re just about done.”

Lee’s look at Amanda confirmed what Booth had said, and he smiled softly at his wife. “Well, I just came by to invite you to lunch, if you have the time.”

Amanda smiled tenderly back at him. “I’d love to.”

Booth watched the interaction between the couple with a mixture of discomfort and fascination. They were clearly still in love and seemed to have almost forgotten he was there.

“Well, uh, I’ll just get going, then,” Booth finally interjected.

“Oh, yes, Seeley, let’s get you in touch with Evan right now, and we’ll talk to you later.” Amanda grabbed a small purse from where it was hanging on a hook near the door. 

Booth followed them out the office door, noting how Lee Stetson’s hand rested protectively in the small of Amanda’s back.

They walked to Evan Conley’s desk and Amanda reminded Evan to give Booth his contact information.

“Goodbye, Seeley, and thank you.” Amanda reached out and grabbed Booth’s hand, squeezing it once and looking into his eyes. 

He returned the pressure to her hand, acknowledging the understanding in her eyes. She knew that opening up like he had had not been easy for him.

Lee shook Booth’s hand as soon as Amanda released it. “Agent Booth, thanks for coming.”

The Stetsons walked away, Lee’s hand still on Amanda’s back.

Booth watched as they went out the double doors and turned to the left, disappearing down the corridor. 

“I’m texting you my cell number right now.” Evan Conley’s voice brought Booth back to his immediate surroundings.

Booth nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Conley strode out the doors, Booth following. They turned to the right and approached the same elevator they had used earlier. As they waited for the doors to open, Booth glanced back down the corridor in the direction the Stetsons had gone.

Evan correctly interpreted the look. “They’re something, aren’t they?”

Booth raised one eyebrow. 

“They’ve been married almost 23 years, and they still look at each other like they’re newlyweds.” Conley stepped into the elevator. Booth did the same.

“Don’t get me wrong—” Conley pushed the button for the Georgetown foyer and watched as the doors slid closed. “We’re all still terrified of getting called in front of Scarecrow—uh, Director Stetson, but knowing that he loves his wife that much keeps him human, you know?”

Booth nodded. Ever since he had seen the “father” side of Deputy Director Cullen, he had felt a little more secure in where he stood with the man.

Conley continued. “And Mrs. Stetson—”

“Amanda,” said both of them simultaneously, causing them to grin at each other in shared amusement and affection.

“She is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet,” Conley confirmed. “But don’t do anything to disappoint her. She’ll make you feel like you’re five years old getting scolded by your mom.”

Conley’s smile straightened out as he looked Booth in the eye, giving him a silent warning. If Booth did anything to hurt Amanda, he would have to answer to Conley, and probably the rest of her agents, too. _And_ her husband.

He nodded silently. He had no intention of causing that woman any more pain. She had suffered enough.

As the elevator doors slid open to reveal the Georgetown foyer, Booth said goodbye to Conley and took off his visitor’s ID. Handing it to the receptionist, he thanked her and walked out the door.

He walked to his SUV, reflecting on his visit with Amanda Stetson. _You can call me Seeley._ Where had _that_ come from? He hated people calling him Seeley. He _never_ invited anyone to call him that. That woman had put a spell on him, or something.

She must have been one _hell_ of a field agent.


	5. Getting Closer

James eyed the wooden crate with trepidation. It was hand-made, not mass-produced, so they were going to have to give it the full treatment. Trace evidence, latent prints, tool marks, all of it. He knew the Agency forensic team would have already examined it, so it was doubtful that there was anything left to find, but he and Hodgins were certainly going to do their best, anyway. 

“Let’s put it under the FLS and see if we can spot anything.” Hodgins indicated the station on a nearby counter and James helped him move the box. They situated it under the tunable forensic light source and while Hodgins sat in front of the computer, James grabbed the camera and attached it to the apparatus. Looking at how new the whole setup was, James thought that they just might be able to find evidence that the Agency missed. This thing was cutting-edge. 

“Alright, let’s boot this baby up!” Hodgins’ enthusiasm was contagious, and James smiled. He had been worried that over time, he would get bored doing lab work again. His Agency life had been full of danger and excitement, and he had thought that he might regret leaving it behind. But science was his first love, and with co-workers that loved it just as much as he did, he realized that he was perfectly content to be here, working in the background. Especially if he could still help to catch the bad guys.

* * *

Lee Stetson’s hand remained in the small of Amanda’s back as they walked down the corridor toward the exit that led to the parking garage. Several people smiled at or greeted them as they passed, and Lee (as usual when walking through these halls with his wife) reflected that his work was so much more pleasant with Amanda as a part of it. He must have trodden these corridors about fifty thousand times in his thirty-seven years with the Agency, and the first ten of those years he had been alone. The last twenty-seven, and especially the last twenty-three, had been the happiest of his life.

As they reached the elevator, he rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she turned her head and smiled at him.

“You’re awfully quiet,” noted Amanda in her soft voice.

“Just thinking about how many times I’ve been up and down these halls over the years, and how much I prefer it when you’re with me,” he replied honestly.

She leaned into him and slid her arm inside his jacket, wrapping it around his waist to give him a sideways hug and relishing the warmth of his body through the thin cotton of his dress shirt. “The feeling’s mutual.”

The elevator door opened, and they stepped in together. Amanda ran her fingertips up and down Lee’s side inside his jacket. He pressed the button for the parking level their cars were on, and the door slid closed.

Lee moved his hand from the small of Amanda’s back to the far side of her waist and pulled her in even tighter to his side, closing his eyes to savor her caresses. He took a deep breath in, then let it slowly out, feeling the stress of the first part of the day fade away.

The image of Amanda with her hand on Booth’s knee appeared behind his closed eyelids, and he slowly opened them. “It looked like you were having a pretty serious discussion with Agent Booth. What was he here for, anyway?”

Amanda sighed. “You’ll think I’m being silly.”

He turned his head and tenderly kissed her temple. “Nothing’s silly about this case, Amanda.”

The elevator came to a halt and the door slid open. They walked by mutual consent to Lee’s Jaguar, and he opened Amanda’s door for her. As she adjusted her seat and buckled up, Lee walked around to the driver’s side and opened his door. He slid into his seat and shut his door, then turned with raised eyebrows to look at her.

“I needed to meet the man who is investigating Philip’s case,” Amanda quietly admitted. “I was looking at his file and he has a son, but he doesn’t have custody and I needed to know why.” 

Lee sighed, nodding. “Were you satisfied with his answer?”

She slowly nodded. “He’s been through a lot, but he has always had his son’s best interests at heart.”

“He’s seemed pretty tight-lipped when I’ve talked to him before.” Lee started the car and began to back out of the parking spot. “I’m surprised he shared enough with you to put your mind at ease.”

“Yes, he seems like a very private person. But he opened up a bit to me when I asked about his son.” She looked over at her husband. “He loves Parker very much.”

Lee glanced at her lovingly, meeting her eyes before turned back to watch the road. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course, he spoke to you.” He flipped the turn signal down, turning his head and grinning at her as they waited for the light to change. “You’ve always been the queen of Class C interrogations.”

Amanda rested her left hand high on his thigh. “The queen, hmm? I like the sound of that.” She moved her hand a little higher and gave his inner thigh a caress. “Must be all the practice I’ve had with you.”

Lee moaned and grabbed her hand, bringing it instead to his lips. “And it’s been my pleasure, believe me.” He kissed her knuckles, then turned her hand over and placed his lips on the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. He was enjoying her teasing and was glad that he could distract her from her worry about Philip’s case. 

Amanda gave a low, sultry laugh that shimmered along his nerves. “Well you know, there’s always room for improvement, even for a queen. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

* * *

On his way back to the Hoover, Booth decided that he would rather head over to the lab to see if Bones had anything new for him. And maybe he would ask her to go out to lunch. 

He considered Amanda Stetson’s comment about her remaining partners with her husband even after they got married. He had told Bones years ago that there was a rule against FBI agents and consultants getting involved with each other. Technically, that was true. But he knew it was really more a guideline than a rule. He supposed if he lobbied for it the right way, with the right person, he could probably get a waiver that would allow them to remain partners even if they were in a relationship. But he was concerned about more than that.

He considered Bones his best friend. What if they tried to become more, and it failed? Would he lose his best friend and the best partner he’d ever had, too? He didn’t really have a great track record with women, so the chances of a relationship with Bones failing were fairly high. That didn’t even take into consideration Bones’ own relationship issues. 

He rubbed the back of his neck as he waited at the light to turn into the parking garage at the Jeffersonian. With a sigh, he admitted to himself how he felt about his partner. _I love Bones. I think in some ways, I always have. So I guess I should find out how she feels about me. Otherwise all my concerns don’t matter anyway._

He pulled into the parking garage and found a parking spot in the employee section, then headed for the elevator.

Walking into the lab, he made his way toward the platform and looked for Bones. He didn’t see her, so he changed direction and went toward her office.

Sure enough, there she was. And she saw him, too; her face lit up with a smile she reserved just for him.

The sight hit him just like it always did when he saw her after not having her near him for a while. He could feel his heart start beating a little faster, his palms got a little sweaty, and the whole world seemed like a brighter place. He smiled back at her and stopped a few steps into the room. 

“Heya, Bones!” 

“Hello, Booth.” Her voice was smooth like an expensive scotch, the slight huskiness adding that peat-smoke flavor he preferred; it was just enough to tantalize his ears and all the rest of him, too. He almost wished she would call him Seeley, too, just so there would be one more syllable for her voice to caress. _Okay, now I know I’ve got it bad…_

“So, I was wondering if you had any information for me yet.” Booth took a few more steps toward her where she was standing behind her desk.

She nodded, sitting down in front of her computer. She typed a few words, clicked with her mouse in two spots, and pulled up the report of the information they had so far.

She turned the monitor so it was facing a little more toward Booth, and he took the last few steps until he was standing next to the edge of her desk.

“The first thing we noticed were the injuries to his phalanges, in both hands and feet. There was repetitive trauma with varying amounts of remodeling on most of the injuries.” She looked up into Booth’s eyes, which were starting to turn even darker than usual. She noticed his jaw was set in anger and remembrance. “I’ve seen this before in cases of torture.” He nodded. “All the damage and remodeling appears to have occurred starting about 2 years ago.”

Booth looked at the screen, considering her words. “But Philip King was supposedly killed two years ago, only a few days after he was captured. There wouldn’t have been time for that amount of remodeling.”

Brennan’s eyes sparkled at his understanding. “Exactly!” She put her hand on top of his where it pressed into the desk, his weight leaning on it as he regarded the screen. “Booth, degradation of the DNA indicates that the remains are only about two months old. Either this is not Philip King, or he wasn’t killed two years ago when it’s believed he was beheaded.”

Before Booth could answer her, they were interrupted by the arrival of Angela.

“Hey, you two are going to want to see this.” She glanced down at their hands on the desk and grinned. “But we can do it later if I’m interrupting something…”

Brennan pulled her hand back just in time for Booth to lift his from the desk, standing up straight. “No, we’ll come look at it now. What’ve you got?”

As they followed her to her office, Angela kept speaking. “Well, Hodgins and Dr. King found a few latent partial prints on the wooden box. They came from three different individuals, but the majority of the prints were from one man.”

They arrived at her office, and Booth noticed Hodgins and Dr. King were standing in front of the large monitor looking at the results of their work.

Brennan nodded at the two men in recognition of their work, and Booth greeted them. “Hey, Hodgins, Dr. King. What did you find?”

Hodgins gave Booth a quick grin in greeting. “As Angela was just saying, there were partials from three individuals, but the majority were from one man. We’ve been unable to identify the other two people at this point.” He looked at Angela. “But Angela was able to make a composite print using two of the partials, and that was enough to come back with a match in IAFIS for the third person.”

Angela took over explaining as Hodgins nodded at her. “The fingerprints that were identifiable are from a thirty-seven-year-old man named Salvador Ulloa.” She touched her tablet screen and the driver’s license of the man popped up on the monitor. “He’s got a history of petty theft and two possession charges, but they’re all from years ago. He’s been going straight the last 8 years, or at least has learned to cover his tracks better.”

Unexpectedly, Dr. King chimed in. “The box is handmade from commercially-sold lumber. It’s possible that the prints are all from people who handled it in a hardware store or something. The location of the Ulloa prints could be from him making the box or just handling the wood. He could be an employee of the store where it was sold, and may not have anything to do with the crime.”

Booth nodded slowly at the reminder to not go off half-cocked. He was impressed that Dr. King could be that impartial in his description of the possible origin of the prints. If it were _his_ brother’s murder they were trying to confirm, he knew that he would have a hard time restraining his eagerness to go out and get the bastard who did it. His thoughts were interrupted as Dr. King continued.

“We located some tool-marks, too, so if you come across anything that may have been used to build the box, collect it, please. We can compare them to the tool-marks on the box.”

Hodgins grinned at his coworker’s polite request, then turned back to Booth. “We’re still working on trace evidence. We also haven’t disassembled the box yet. There could be some more fingerprints or trace in the joins. We’ll keep you updated.”

Brennan looked at the others in the room and decided to share the information from the remains that she and Mr. Bray had discovered. It wouldn’t hurt Angela and Hodgins to hear it, and might give Dr. King some comfort to know they were getting information they could work with to uncover the mysteries of this death.

“We discovered evidence that the deceased had been tortured. Multiple fractures to the phalanges in both hands and feet with various amounts of remodeling, dating from two years ago to about two months ago.”

Booth had been watching Dr. King, not at all as confident as Brennan that the news she was going to share would be reassuring to him. So he noticed, even if no one else did, that Dr. James King’s eyes widened and his head snapped to look at Booth when he heard Brennan’s findings.

Booth gave him a subtle nod, affirming his conclusions. He watched as Dr. King’s eyes closed and his shoulders slumped. It was hard to even imagine what King was feeling at this point. This new information just made everything more confusing. Their original purpose was to confirm that this was Philip King’s body and that was basically it. But now they had evidence that conflicted with the reports of his death; this wasn’t him, or it _was_ him, but he had been tortured for almost two years before being killed. 

Either there was no closure, or the closure would come with the knowledge that their loved one had suffered for the last two years before dying. Neither option was comforting. He thought of the strong but sensitive woman he had met this morning who would suffer because of these findings, and he glanced up at Dr. King again, knowing that he, too, was thinking of his mother. 

Dr. King took a deep breath and let it out slowly and silently, hoping no one had noticed his reaction except Booth. He squared his shoulders and said with renewed determination, “Well, then, let’s get back to our work. Someone out there needs some closure, and we’re going to get it for them.”

Hodgins slapped him on the back and started back toward his lab, Dr. King following him.

Booth turned to Brennan. “Want to go get some lunch, Bones?”

“Yes, let me just take off my lab coat and get my bag.” She stopped and looked at Angela. “Would you like to join us, Ange?”

Angela slowly shook her head. “No, I brought my lunch today. I have some work to do, anyway. You two go ahead without me.”

Brennan nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

Booth and Brennan walked out of Angela’s office, Booth’s hand planted in the small of Brennan’s back, as usual.

Angela’s eyes followed them out, then drifted back over toward Jack’s lab. Something was going on here. Dr. King had definitely had a personal sort of reaction to Brennan’s findings, and the look he had shared with Booth, and Booth’s little nod, just confirmed it.

There was more to this case than just a random body dump in a wooden box. She had some digging to do.


	6. Evidence Uncovered

“Okay, that’s the last one,” observed Hodgins, laying the piece of wood on the table next to the others. He glanced at the inside edges of the boards, where they had been joined together. “I think I see some particulate matter along this edge, and there is definitely something entomological mixed in this sediment here…”

He looked up at his companion, who met his eyes with a shrewd gleam. 

“Divide and conquer?” James suggested, nodding at the particulates. 

Hodgins grinned. “You take the entomological, I’ll take the botanical and mineral…” he sang in faux-musical style.

James gave his head a shake and smiled lopsidedly. Working with Dr. Hodgins was certainly an experience. But then again, how many multi-millionaires held three doctorates and chose to work in a forensics lab?

* * *

Angela shook her head in frustration. Following up on her hunch, she had started investigating Dr. King’s background. She found his educational records without a hitch, confirming his graduation from high school a year early, undergrad work at Virginia Commonwealth University, and Doctorates in Entomology and Forensic Molecular Biology from George Washington University. But he had finished his schooling in 2002 and only started at the Jeffersonian last year, in 2009.

Then she found his employment records from 2002-2008, and that was where she started getting suspicious.

Why would someone with two doctorates in highly scientific fields go to work for a film company? As she investigated International Federal Film, she saw that they produced mainly documentaries, which she supposed would sometimes require the services of scientists, since many documentaries focused on nature and other scientific topics. But the small number of films produced by the company every year made it seem unlikely that they would employ someone as well-educated as Dr. King full-time.

Another part of the puzzle was the lack of information available on IFF, itself. It contracted with the federal government to make films, apparently, so there would seem to be a certain amount of secrecy involved and she was having a tough time finding much more about it. Hmm.

She decided to go about this a different way, looking at Dr. King’s personnel file. He was married to Clara Davies King and had a young daughter born just last month, Sofia Amanda King. His mother was listed as Amanda King Stetson and his father was Joseph King. His parents were divorced and both had gotten remarried, his mother to a Lee Stetson and his father to a Carrie King. He had one brother, listed as deceased in 2008, a Philip King. _Philip King. Phil King_ … that name sounded so familiar.

She looked him up and was surprised to find the top results of her search were the stories of Philip King’s death. She also found numerous videos of his work. Philip King had been a news correspondent, reporting from the Middle East and Asia. Her hand flew to cover her mouth in shock. He had been beheaded in Bangladesh…

She looked out toward the headless skeleton that still sat on the platform, then toward Hodgins’ lab, where Dr. James King worked to uncover evidence related to his…brother’s(?)… death. That would certainly explain the little interactions she had seen between Dr. King and Booth. But why would Dr. King try to hide his connection to their victim? And how did the body get here to the US? This was Booth’s case, and the FBI dealt with domestic problems, not international terrorists.

Something continued to bother her about the puzzle represented by Dr. King’s employment history, too. What was he doing working for a film company for six years? Especially a film company that barely made any films and had connections to the federal government?

Not expecting much to show up, she threw out a wider net and did a search on his parents and stepparents. She found that Joseph King, Dr. King’s father, worked as Head Legal Counsel at the Emergency Aid Organization, and that Carrie King was a teacher. Amanda Stetson worked at…IFF? Now that was interesting. And Lee Stetson… Well, that was _way_ more than a coincidence. Maybe she had been around Hodgins too much, but she was sure that there was something fishy about this whole IFF thing.

* * *

Brennan and Booth walked into Founding Fathers and waited for the hostess to seat them. He had suggested that they go there instead of the diner so that they could have a little more privacy for the conversation he wanted to have. Not that—well, he wasn’t going to come right out and ask her if she loved him. But maybe he could start with telling her about his meeting with Amanda Stetson and casually drop the whole ‘married and still partners’ thing into the conversation; maybe he could get a feel for whether that was something that interested her… He just knew that he was getting tired of this holding pattern they seemed to be in. He needed to know if there was hope for them, or if he should just try to be happy with what they had.

He looked out into the restaurant and was startled to notice Lee and Amanda Stetson sitting in a booth side-by-side, lunches half-consumed, engaged in a spirited conversation.

Unfortunately, Brennan noticed them as well. “Booth, there’s Dir-- Mister Stetson.”

“I see him, Bones; keep your voice down, please.”

Booth was trying to remain inconspicuous and turn away, but Lee Stetson chose that moment to look up, and he met Brennan’s eyes.

Stetson nodded and smiled, noting Booth’s presence beside the anthropologist. He made a comment to his wife, then stood up and walked to the front of the restaurant where Booth and Brennan were standing.

“Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, it’s a bit busy here today. You’re welcome to join my wife and me at our table.” He gestured to the booth where Amanda Stetson sat, watching them with an interested smile.

“Thank you,” Brennan answered before Booth could demur, and made her way toward the table. Booth followed slowly, still not sure they should interrupt the couple during their lunch.

Amanda Stetson’s welcoming smile made him feel somewhat better, though he still would have preferred to not bother them.

As they reached the Stetsons’ booth, Lee waved at the bench across from where they were sitting, and first Brennan slid in, then Booth.

“Well, Amanda, I know you’ve met Seeley Booth, but this is Dr. Temperance Brennan.” Lee gestured toward Brennan. “Dr. Brennan, this is my wife, Amanda Stetson.”

“Please, call me Amanda.” She held out her hand to Brennan, who shook it gently, then glanced, puzzled, at Booth.

Brennan smiled as she turned back to the other woman. “Then you may call me Temperance.”

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Temperance. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Brennan nodded. “I am quite well-known. I am the preeminent forensic anthropologist in the world, and I am also a best-selling author.”

Amanda smiled, accepting Brennan’s proclamation as the factual statement it was instead of as the pretension it sounded like. “Yes, I know. I enjoyed your first two books, though I admit I haven’t had time to read any more after those.”

Brennan nodded in acceptance of the praise. “I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

They were interrupted by the waitress, who asked if they would like some menus. 

“Oh, no, I think we know what we want,” Booth answered. He gave his order, then Brennan gave hers.

“You must come here pretty often,” Lee noted.

“Yeah, we do, though usually we come here at night. We tend to eat lunch at the Royal Diner.”

Brennan nodded. “We often come here with the other members of my team from the Jeffersonian.”

“I see,” Amanda commented. She turned to Booth. “Do you find it comfortable to go out with a whole bunch of scientists, Seeley?”

He cleared his throat. He didn’t really like to talk about himself much, which she had seemed to understand earlier in the day. “Uh, yeah, they’re not a bad bunch. They kind of grow on you after a while.”

Amanda nodded, smiling. “Our son seems to enjoy working there very much.”

“He is an asset to the Jeffersonian and to the Global Genome Initiative.” Brennan gave praise sparingly. 

Amanda seemed to understand that, and beamed at the woman across the table.

“He is a very accomplished young man.” Lee was noticeably proud of his stepson, and Booth felt a moment of envy toward Dr. King. Not only did he have a loving mother, but even his stepfather was obviously very fond of him.

Lee chuckled. “Well, maybe not so young anymore. He’s about your age, I’d say. His wife just gave birth to a daughter five weeks ago, you know.”

“Oh, so you’re grandparents, now.” Booth smiled at the news. “Congratulations.”

“You don’t have any children, Temperance?” Amanda asked. Though she knew the answer, she wanted to know what the anthropologist would say.

“No, I don’t. I did think about it, at one point…” She glanced at Booth, who had an alarmed look on his face. She decided to not disclose any more than that. “I haven’t been around very many of them in my life.” She paused, considering. “Though I do enjoy spending time with Parker. He’s a bright boy.”

Booth looked relieved that she had not said anything further. “Ah, he loves you, Bones.”

Lee leaned forward. “You should consider it, Temperance, if you have the opportunity. I never thought I would enjoy being around children, but Amanda’s boys…” He picked up Amanda’s hand where it sat on the table and gave it a squeeze. “It was a joy to help raise them, and so wonderful to see the men they became.”

Amanda’s eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. She gripped Lee’s hand, smiling a sad, loving smile. He turned his head and kissed her temple, then she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

He turned back to Brennan. “Being a dad has been one of the best experiences of my life.” He glanced at Amanda again and smiled. “That, and marrying Amanda.”

Amanda lifted her head and kissed his cheek. “Oh, _you_. Married almost twenty-three years and still such a romantic.”

Lee looked across the table at Brennan, who had been watching them curiously. She had even less experience with happily married couples than she did with children. Lee seemed to sense that, and suddenly winked at her.

She wasn’t sure what that meant and was trying to figure out how to respond when the waitress came over with food for Brennan and Booth.

After she left, they all started eating, Lee and Amanda slowly snacking on what remained on their plates.

Booth, sensing an opportunity to introduce Bones to the idea of partners marrying, decided to ask the other couple a question. “How long were you partners before you got married?”

Brennan’s head popped up, surprised. 

“About three and a half years.”

Booth listened to Lee’s answer but watched Bones. _Hmm. She looks very interested in his answer…_

Amanda made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Except that he wouldn’t admit to me _being_ his partner for the first year…” She grinned at her husband; obviously, this was a subject that had come up in the past, and he took the teasing good-naturedly.

“So I was stupid back then; sue me!” he laughed.

“You should have _heard_ his excuses to not work with me.” Amanda tsked and shook her head, smiling.

“I refused to work with Booth for a whole _year_ after _our_ first case together,” Brennan offered.

Booth laughed and nodded. “I had to resort to extreme measures to get her to work with me a second time,” he agreed. “Then, she blackmailed me into letting her be my partner.”

Amanda laughed, shaking her head. “Blackmail, huh? I never thought of that…”

Lee grinned. “You didn’t need to. Billy was on your side the whole time.”

“Who’s Billy?” asked Brennan. This topic of conversation was fascinating to her for some reason.

“Billy Melrose was our section leader, our boss. He kept throwing Amanda and me together on cases, even though I argued against it.” He gave Amanda a long-suffering look, and she smacked his arm with the back of her hand.

“Eventually, Lee realized he just couldn’t do without me…” Amanda shrugged with a tilt of her head, grinning at her husband.

He winked at her. “That’s the truth.”

“And when did you realize that you—” Brennan’s curiosity let the sentence slip out of her mouth, but her long-held assertion that love was just a mix of chemicals in the brain did not allow her to finish it.

Booth placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm, looking at her with his eyebrows raised. She was _really_ interested in this discussion. He struggled not to smile, but inside he was grinning like an idiot.

“Hmm, that’s an interesting question.” Amanda answered as if Brennan had finished it. “I guess we just became friends first, then started spending more and more time with each other.”

“Until we decided that we just didn’t want to be apart anymore.” Lee wrapped his arm around Amanda’s shoulders and pulled her to him in a sideways hug. She patted his hand where it was gripping her shoulder.

Lee gave Amanda’s shoulder another squeeze, then let go. He glanced at his watch. “Well, I need to get back. I have a meeting in forty-five minutes.”

He slid out from the bench seat, then held out his hand to help Amanda slide out after him. He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

Booth waved his hand toward Lee. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”

Lee nodded and gave Booth his hand to shake. 

“It was nice meeting you, Temperance,” Amanda said, then squeezed Booth’s shoulder. She gave him a soft smile when he met her eyes, and she flicked her eyes to his partner, then back. With a pat to his shoulder, she lifted her hand and stepped back.

“A pleasure, Temperance.” Lee nodded at both of them again, then took Amanda’s hand and moved toward the entrance of the restaurant.

As they walked through the door, Lee pulled her closer and gave her another sideways hug. Amanda wrapped her arm around his waist as they strolled to the car.

“Thanks for following my lead in there, partner.” Lee grinned at his wife as he opened Amanda’s door and handed her in.

“My pleasure,” she told him before he closed the door, then waited for him to get in on his side. “I thought you were up to something when Seeley told me this morning that you had told him we were partners before we got married.”

He started the car. “He did, huh?” 

“So, I told him that we stayed partners after marrying, too.” She raised her eyebrow at him when he glanced at her.

He grinned. “Good.”

“Something tells me you’re a lot more invested in their relationship than just a few dropped comments.”

“I may have convinced Cullen to pave the way for them…”

She sighed, caressing his cheek. “You really are just a big softie, aren’t you?”

“Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.”

She laughed as he backed out of the parking spot.

* * *

Angela hated to interrupt Hodgins when he was so obviously involved in his work, but she needed to get his opinion on the information she had found on Dr. James King.

“Hodgins?”

Jack looked up from the microscope eyepiece and saw Angela in the doorway. “Hey, Ange. What’s up?”

“Can you come look at something for a minute?”

He glanced at Jim, who nodded. Peeling the gloves off his hands and throwing them in the trash, he followed her out of his lab.

As they reached her office, she pulled up all the information she had found on Dr. James King and his family on the big monitor. She didn’t say anything, just let him read each document and news story and come to his own conclusions.

Finally, she saw his head moving quickly back and forth, compiling several pieces of data with what he already knew. His eyes were getting bigger and bigger as he put it all together.

“The Agency!”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t really care if Cullen is still the Deputy Director in the series during season 5 or not. Turbomagnus used Cullen in “Familiar Territory” and I don’t like any of the others that followed Cullen, so I’m using my artistic license to keep Cullen around for this one, too.


End file.
